We All Go A Little Mad Sometimes
by Diving-Deep.x
Summary: 10 yrs after Violet told Tate to go away. A new family has moved into the murder house. One particular person seems to captivate everyone's attention. Whether they have good intentions or not. But when Tate murders that same family, He leaves one...Why?
1. NewComers

Violet POV

Marcy's slick seller voice sliced through each wall until it entered the curve of my ear and was registered by my brain, all the way in the kitchen.

Moira and Vivien sat opposite to me, their chatterings soon cut still as their heads snapped in my direction then toward Marcy's.

I tip-toed silently toward the living room where the family was being brought into. I stopped just by the door way in time to hear the beginning of Marcy's yearly introduction.

"As you can see mahogany, walnut and chestnut have most of the house. Every room has been redone with the furniture the last owners provided. The kitc-" A woman with long brown hair that cascaded just past her shoulders cut Marcy off and said snidely "You said every room had been redone, but all the poor people's furniture is still here? That just won't do, now will it Marcy?" Her face pulled itself into a forced grin, the last part she said sickly sweet. I was going to have a slight problem with this one.

I could see Tate and Ben in the study, pausing their daily session to peek at the new comers. The brunette shook her head lightly, "Honey, can you come here and bring Murphy and Harleen?" Silence and then screaming followed. The peircing kind that throws knives at your eardrums. Without need my hands covered my ears and i gritted my teeth. I glanced over my shoulder to find Moira making tea and Vivien in the same position.

A moment passed and the screaming never stopped. Finaly A man in a white shirt, and white pants entered carrying a black, blonde, and red bundle. A boy about my age walking beside the hunch saying soothing words that could not be heard over the bundle's insessant shrieking.

The man bent down to lay the thing on the ground when the screaming stopped and his cries rang out. The bundle was a girl, also about my age and Had her teeth on the man's arm. Out of his white suit you could see blood seeping through the expensive fabric. She then started to yell again.

In his deperation to stop the pain, he threw the girl into the younger also brunette boy's arms. The screaming immediatly ceased, and he put the girl down. She reached a pale hand up, and stroked hair away from her face, all the while her and the boywearing identical malicous smirks.

My eye scanned the disfunctional family thouroughly. I started with the supposed Mom. Brunnete, she was sickly thing and her tight purple shirt and white jeans only emphasises that fact. A bony face riddled with wrinkles and age. She looked young but the years of tanning beds prevented her from looking her age. She was snotty too. A turn off.

My mocha orbs landed on the Father next. Handsome, blonde and he looked well dressed. I couldn't tell his personality by just one look, i would have to watch him interact with. I knew this whole family was loaded the second Mom stepped in.

I moved to the girl with the set of golden lungs. Golden blonde hair streaked down the sides of her abnormaly pale face. Unlike her Mom she was curvaceous, you couldn't really see it under what she was wearing though. She had plump lips that were a deep rose color. Her eyes were like stormclouds, angry possesive and out for the kill. Lastly her clothes, they were strange.. very strange. A black straight-jacket bagged on her torso, buckles and latches at every possible movement point, it also hung down to her knees like a dress. Her leggings were a vibrant red color, creating a kind of ensemble with the colors. She wore plain combat boots with crimson laces.

I paused my analysist to examine the cause of the breath coursing down my spine. I craned my neck to see Vivien behind me.

The boy was as plain as plain could be brown hair, brown eyes and all clad in black. His angular face piqued my intrest, but only because Tate had the same jawline.

Tears sprang to my eyes as i melted in with the fabric of the house and pushed past my mom. I needed to be in my room. Now.


	2. Smolder

Tate Pov

I turned my head to see Violet had been just as enthralled in the new family as we had been.

The girl was absolutely breath-taking. I loved the ferocity of her attitude. The petite body frame she possessed. And they way she dressed. I was first intrigued by Violet at the way she dressed so care free, but this girl. She dressed like a psychopath…_My Psychopath. _

I moved to follow her when the new girl caught my gaze. The fierce spark of gray in her irises made me abruptly sit back down in the worn leather loveseat.

I tried to pry my attention away from Blondie but my concentration was trained on her delicate face and body. She started to walk away with the tour group, Before she crossed the threshold of the kitchen, she peeped her head back to me and gestured 'come here' with her hands.

I was just about to pursue her when Dr Harmon's hand stopped me. "Leave this one alone Tate. Or else." He stated menacingly. What could He do to me? Stab me? I'm already dead.

I just laughed and pursed my lips. His gaze on me hardened. I shook my head and said "Dr Harmon. You may know about my mental capabilities but you have no idea about my physical ones.

I stalked to the French doors that separated us and was just about to open up the gate that split us apart when Violet clumsily raced up the stairs, her flats slapping the chestnut in desperation to reach her sanctuary that had once been mine.

My movement halted to a dead stop. My heart cracked and smoldered every time I saw her golden tresses or her mocha irises. I could feel the campfire sparking inside my chest at this very moment. My eyes traveled back to Ben, sitting and looking forbiddingly at me. I shamefully sat back down to resume our afternoon session.

We sat in silence until he spoke. "Why did you want to leave and go see that girl?" His voice was accusing and rather scolding like. I scoffed, I'm not his child, in fact I had sex with his wife.

"Because she was hot. Simple as that." My tone was cold and solid. He raised his eyebrow knowingly. "Is that all?" A dark laugh erupted from the back of my throat as I replied, "Would you rather have me chasing Violet?"

He simply stared. "Didn't think so." The fire was quickly consuming every fiber of my being with it's talons of heat and numbness. The buzzer rang indicating our time was up. His eyes darted to the timer and back to me. "It seems our session is up, Tate." I stood up slowly and left without another word.

Right now I needed my older brother. My feet make the house creak and groan from the illusion of a human walking within the hallway leading to the attic. I climbed to old, rickety latter and the second my foot touched the aged walnut a small, red ball rolled towards me.]

A smile claimed my face as Beau limped out of the shadows that shrouded him in darkness. I sat on the ground and faced him, we rolled the ball back and forth until he looked over my shoulder and said "Mommy!". My head whipped around and came face-to-face with Constance... My Bitch-Of-A-Mother.


	3. Eclipsed

I know I'm using a lyric from Eclipsed. Sue me! Rights go to the creators of AHS, Me and Evans Blue

Harleen POV

My eyes scanned the kitchen as my mother and father rambled on about the pasta arm and other useless appliances. I was tired from the car ride from Georgia and just wanted to claim my room and sleep there.

My body made a complete turn around and I darted for the stairs. A blonde girl wearing a large, Haitian-like shawl with blue jeans beat me there and raced up the stairs. I quirked an eyebrow and started to follow her , hunted her even. I ran up the stairs, grasping the railing that propelled me forward.

When I reached the top the girl was nowhere to be seen. I twirled in a circle to check every angle of the hallway. Suddenly the air turned boiling hot, so I took off my straight-jacket. Now I was left in a black tank top. Rattling could be heard above me. Loud, clipped rattling that sounded like, _Chains? _

I weighed my options, something I always do in a time of uncertainty. I could climb the latter to the attic, or whatever was above me and explore the unknown, OR I could go back downstairs and seal my lips like a good girl scout. What was the fun in that? A devious smirk danced on my features as I pulled the string down to access the Attic.

Muffled voices were reverberated off the cavernous area, every now and then raising an octave. All the while sniffles rang out over the tones.

Hesitantly I stepped over the brink of the entrance and entered the upper floor. The first surprising thing I saw was a deformed boy clinging to the leg of a woman in her fifties with her back to me. Next I saw a boy, straight blonde hair yet it was wavy in places. He had the darkest eyes I have ever seen. They were sinister, an abyss. Eclipsed like mine, yet they looked just right.

The breath was kicked from my lungs as our irises met and they sort of melted into another. Suddenly, I collapsed on the ground as a large hole about the size of a penny felt as if it had been shot into my body, then another, and another until seven-teen holes were stinging and threatening to overcome my body with a comatose.

The boy said a final thing to the older woman and she walked over my body and town the latter. His hand hurried the other deformed boy away from him as his feet's vibrations tapped against the floor that carried him to me.

Without a word ,or at least not a word I could hear, he hauled me to his chest and walked me down the latter and to a eggshell room.

I know what happened in this room. I've been on the Murder House tours. Here Tate Langdon was shot seventeen times because he killed fifteen innocent people at Westfield High School. My vision faded to black as he placed me down on the tainted bed, possibly for good…

Tate POV

The sound of taps brought me out of battle with Constance about Michael.

I glanced behind her to find the angel is saw earlier today staring deep into my eyes. Her breathing hitched and next thing I know she's laying limp on the cold floor.

My gaze returned to Constance as I said the final word in our conversation was spoken.

"Norah will have that child. If I can have anything to do with it, She will have my son." Constance's face turned a shade of white and she stormed over the girl's form and went downstairs, outraged. Beau's grip on her leg was now nonexistent so he turned to me and asked "Play?" I shook my head and slashed my hand through the musty air as a sign of space.

"Beau, I can't right now." My eyes fixed themselves on her body and I saw red splotches oozing through her clothes. My phantom heart skipped a beat as I rushed over to her.

My hand went to her shoulders and another to her knees. I swiftly stood and expertly trudged down the latter, holding my sleeping beauty.

I could hear her faint breathing patterns, the slight groans that rumbled within her frail chest. Good, it was a sign her lungs were moving. I laid her down on my out-dated bed sheets. Violet's bed had been sold years ago because no one would pay money for my worn one. I pulled my hands away from her back and knees and moved to inspect her torso for the bloody wounds that had made themselves right at home there.

My hands found the hem of her tight shirt and started to pull it up when my knuckle grazed the hole and she screamed bloody murder. I jerked my hands away quickly and found that my patience was rapidly slipping. I cursed under my breath and was going to try to lift the stitch of her shirt again when her bloodless hands curled around my fingers, effectively stopping me.

My tolerance was as thin as the walls in this house. I looked up at her to see she was shaking her head mouthing 'Please'. I set my mouth in a firm line and grabbed at the stitching again and instead of pulling it up, I ripped the fabric up to her breastbone, exposing her black bra.

I forced the smirk that had crossed my face off it. I stared at the gaping wounds in disbelief. I caressed one of them subconsciously and in a second, her nimble fingers wound themselves on my hands. She flung my body on top of hers and then I was staring into the eyes of a fallen angel.

Her irises bore pain and rage into mine. After leaving nail marks, her hands let go of mine and moved to my hair. I was throw to one side of her form from the force of her strength. She moved to sit up when a strangled cry ripped through her throat. My heart sank and I moved on top of her, now straddling her waist. I secured her arms with one of mine above her head.

My eyes searched her stomach for any bloody holes, but found none, only dried blood and unmarked ivory skin. I breathed a sigh of relief when something metallic clicked behind me. I craned my neck to see her brother and mother hiding behind her enraged father who was holding a .44 Magnum


	4. Maggie'

Harleen POV

My father was a terrible aim. That is which I'm thankful for. My ears rang as the bullet connected with the bedpost that loomed overhead. My eyes shot to the boy on top of me, trying to search for any sign of damage on him. When I found none, I located a vital piece of myself…My ability to speak. "Stop" I commanded loudly. The boy released my hands.

I looked over the lean shoulders of my savior and locked eyes with Murphy, almost pleading with him not to convince Father not to hurt the boy. He solemnly shook his head, and rushed behind Mother, his cowardly refugee. I was outraged! How dare he retreat after I saved his ass too many times to count.

The boy stood up, and put his crimson hands in the air. I tried to recall why they were drenched in red liquid when the image of my gaping stomach wounds flashed inside my head. I had to protect him because he protected me. My father snarled in disgust and aimed for his heart. I closed my eyes as his finger squeezed the thin trigger.

I never heard the shot because it never happened, in it's stead shattered glass reverberated through my soul. I pried my eyes open to see the boy had kicked the window and jumped through it. I looked over towards Murphy and Mother but found the door way empty. Cowards travel in herds.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding until his safety was assured. I stood perfectly still as my father contemplated his next move. He raced to the window, weapon at hand but searched the ground below for any sign of the boy. He lowered the gun, rushed over to me and hugged me with great ferocity. When his arms unbound me, I forced a smile on my face as reassurance.

"My baby girl… Almost lost to me today. I saw blood on his hands did he hurt you?"

I quickly shook my head and spit out a lie quicker than it took to create. "He had a long gash on his arm. Guess it came from that."

He raised his eyebrows "Are you sure Harley? You're not just covering up for one of your newest flings are you? Because I will find-" I quickly snuffed out his words and overlapped them with myown.

"He's not a fling, love interest, flame or anything else you want to call it." I paused to run her fingers through her hair. "I've never seen that man in my life."

He gave me a shaky smile to which I returned a little more steadier. "I love you Harls. You want to sleep in here or-" He trailed off letting the place of slumber entirely up to her. I put an exaggerated 'L' shaped hand to my chin and rubbed it. We stopped to enjoy the one moment of bliss we've've had since Georgia. " I'm going to go search the perimeter of the house with Maggie" He said patting the silver casing of his .44.

He grinned one last time then left without another word. I'm completely sure I don't want to sleep in here. The moment I crossed the threshold into the hall, a deep sadness and longing clung to every fiber of my being, latching on like little viruses. I quickly tacked a sheet up on the window, as a faux blockage.

I admired my Mickey-Mouse job of boarding up a window, when I stepped closer to examine the window a large shard dug into my foot about the size of a razor. I yelped with pain and took out the fragment which was stained bright vermilion. I bit my lip to prevent me freaking out at the sight of blood. Other people's blood don't bother me, just my own. I examined the large, glassy splinter and in the reflection saw the boy with blonde hair that wouldn't flee my mind.

I gasped and turned around only to met face to face with nothing but, gaseous air. Oxygen, no boy with unruly hair, abyssal eyes, angular face- Dear god, I stopped my train of thought at that.

He wasn't a flame as of now. Let's try and keep it that way…

**Tate POV**

What. The. Fuck. How the fuck did I get so scared as to jump out a fucking window?

_Because you weren't scared of the Magnum, you were scared of her reaction simply because you can't be shot and then five minutes later rise from the grave and make moves on her._

The voice within my head chimed in.

I knew that was true. I couldn't expose the house to her yet. If I had done it then, the whole family would know. Because of the little stunt I pulled just now, she's got to be guarded heavily. Maybe she doesn't realize it but there's surveillance around her at all times. I need someone who can worm their way into a person's mind within days and have such a great influence on them. I needed someone manipulative and brash, straight to the point yet caring so they can become her friend, or at least be a damn good actress.

The one name that would help Harley become mine bounded off each and every wall in the dank cellar I have confined myself to.

"Hayden!"


	5. Bad Blood

Hayden POV

"Don't be a prune, Travis" He shook his head away as my thin finger traced his jaw line.

"Hayden, Stop."-He paused to shove me away-"It's just not working anymore." I felt the cold liquid of rejection seep through me once again. I scoffed breathily. "Fine, who would want a sparkler when you could have a firecracker?" As if on cue Tate's voice echoed of the damp, mildewed walls. I smiled evilly and waved a quick farewell "Well this has been great but I have to take my products elsewhere."

It hurt a little when Travis didn't come after and instead gazed out the window as Constance watered her flowers. I sighed as refusal threatened to freeze my heart. I had banned myself to cry, at least in front of him. Tate's voice gave another shout of my name. What the fuck did that boy want?

I rounded the corner to see him standing there in all his paranormal, Adonis like beauty. My breathing gripped and strangled my windpipe with all of it's might. He looked relieved to see me which made me feel superior. He should like to see me.

He bounded over to me with restless movements and grabbed my shoulders in a bone-crushing embrace. " I need your help, Hayden" I smirked triumphantly at his words. Finally had he given into his sexual appeal for me, I could use that against Travis. Nothings a better 'Fuck You' than sleeping with Tate Langdon.

I leaned into his chest, but his strict hold at my shoulders were keeping me at arms length.

I huffed, "If you don't want my body, what do you want?" I questioned raising a brow. He looked at everything but me, specifically my eyes. "I need your mind." he stated quietly. Victory patched up the refusal quickly. "What if I say no?" I asked mockingly. He matched my eyes with a deep animalistic nature that had me digging my nails in the palm of my hands, shedding phantom blood.

"I didn't ask you to agree with me on your fate. Just do it." His voice dropped to a lethal whisper. I gulped subconsciously. His eyes darted to my throat, then a malevolent grin ripped it's way from the casing of his lips. Now he knew he scared me. He scared us all, even Norah his mother figure and Thaddeus half beast. His grip on my shoulders released themselves.

Tate's upturned mouth turned sour within an instant. "So now we've covered the topic of a deal. The plan." I scornfully laughed but didn't argue, instead I replied smoothly. "What _exactly_ do you want me to do? Spend Friday going out and luring girls into your insane web of seduction?" He smirked again "Glad to know you think I have a 'web of seduction'. "

I sighed, I was getting impatient. He always dragged things out for far too long. "The point?" I reminded him, in hopes of reviving his tattered mind. Tate snapped his pale fingers and said "Become a girl's best friend." I scoffed incredulously. A girl's _best friend_? What were we going to do? Paint each other's nails mint(Green) and cornflower(Blue)? Or style each other's hairs and watch scary, completely stereotypical movies about ghosts.

Fuck and No. Instead I swallowed my pride and said with faux enthusiasm "Who and When?" He smiled lightly "That's the spirit Hayden! Always optimistic!" -He paused and started walking backwards toward the stairs- "Harleen Sage Vermillion. Start tomorrow." I puffed my chest out and saluted him with a steady hand.

I listened as his heavy footfalls silenced and withered with distance. I released the air in my lungs and shrugged my shoulders as I followed the same path Tate had taken moments ago.

I went to his old room and passed through the closet doors. I clicked on the light, and started rummaging through her belongings when I heard the thundering wail of the door being opened and closed.

I peeked my eyes out of the shading to see the girl Tate had been so easily entangled in. I could see why, she looked like Lilith, but younger, more time period appropriate and with blonde hair.

She looked like Aphrodite but with a hint of mystery and a lot of darkness mixed within the fabric of her being. Some thing lurked around her, oozed from her. It was sinister. I wouldn't touch her with a ten-foot pole but orders had been given.

I faced the inner closet and was just about to seep out to the hallway when an invisible barrier halted me 'dead' in my tracks. Icy hands gripped the back of my yellow tank top and threw me across the room towards a broken window. I groaned and pulled pieces of transparent glass from my arms and shoulders.

I perked my head up and saw a spiteful smile implant itself on her features. I shivered unintentionally and tried to back up but found myself back to back with a completely solid wall that for some reason, I couldn't go through. Fuck You Logic, you vicious mistress.

She stalked over to me, the sneer never retreating. I kept trying to make a great escape, but found nothing but great fear. "So how long is it going to take for you to tell me why you were spying on me?" She asked with a mocking undertone to her words. I quickly realized something.

She was evil, that was a fact. But how deep exactly did her bad blood run?


	6. Abyss

Hayden POV

That goddamn blood runs pretty goddamn deep. Harley found a long piece of her window and repeatedly stabbed me with the shard. I screamed over and over until my voice was hoarse and raw.

She had done that twenty-seven times…In each limb. She had flung my body across the room about three times. My vow to not shed a tear was completely shattered when that stake pierced my skin. It was worse than a knife because it wasn't polished, just jagged and serrated.

I was wading in and out of consciousness. Darkness consumed but then an angry little sprite danced within my line of vision. I felt a slice on my palm and groaned in agony. It felt as if my heart was stationed in my hand, throbbing away it's last phantom beats. I could barley hear her words over the illusion of blood rushing behind my ears.

Suddenly the pain stopped so I forced my eyes open and saw she was sitting on the bed, a deadly grin stretched across her face. I looked through my swollen lids and saw Ben, the love of my life, balancing his focus between me and Harley.

"About damn time." I said with some difficulty due to my bloated lip. Ben narrowed his eyes the longer he looked at me. Disgust, sorrow and pity rang clear within his icy optics. I let out a strangled sign and attempted to stand.

I would have collapsed to the ground if Ben had not caught my elbows in his hands.

I laughed derisively and said "Ben, I'll be fine. Remember we're-" He cut my words off with a sharp look. Oh right. Harley didn't know.

Her angelic voice that made me tremble with fear sounded from the bloodied bed. "After what I did, you won't be okay for a long while, Hayden." She stated with an undertone of knowledge.

I didn't bother to hold my tongue though I should because of her spontaneous actions. "Maybe you and Tate are better for each other than I thought." The grin wiped itself off her face and confusion set like cement. "Tate?" She questioned. I held my breath.

If she doesn't know of him, that would only make Tate desire her more. He's already forbidden to touch her, speak to her, or even silently follow her. She's Forbidden Fruit, and the most deadliest kind.

I wanted to look back, see her wonder, see her crave more information but I kept calm and collected, and clutching onto Ben, we left without another glance.

Harleen

Her screams felt so good bouncing, and dancing across my skin. They were like water to a desert traveler. I inhaled them greedily, they were a drug need I couldn't quench. So, I made more.

After roughly stabbing her around thirty times in each leg and or arm, I decided she would be my source. My very own energy drink. Her cries of pain were so new, so vibrant!

I sat down in front of her battered carcass and sliced her palm lightly, I need to make her feel the pain I have felt, scream the cries I feed on, thrive on. I spoke words that only the Heroics were knowledgeable about.

"Cibos me a orationem,Obtestor me a SOPIO,a libro metus"

I could feel the peace slipping from the air as she regained consciousness. "Have a good sleep, dear?" I mumbled under my breath lightly. Suddenly a hand clasped around my shoulder and roughly pushed me to the ground.

A man in his mid forties hovered above me with an infuriated gleam in his eye. He directed his attention to The girl as she let out a strangled groan. She muttered something incoherent to me but he rolls his eyes.

I climbed up on the bed and grinned deviously, I knew I looked menacing.

She says something again unintelligible but I do catch 'Remember we're'. I wished she had continued but the man cut her off with a glare.

She was just about out the door when she slurred out a sentence which I couldn't not understand. Again only one word could be heard "Tate". Something stealthily unlocked my subconscious and made me cling to that one angelic name.

"Tate?" I asked quizzically. I could hear the tension building behind my question like a dam. 'Ruby's (As I like to call her, of course referring to her hair) shoulders slumped lowly as she wobbled out of my room.

I looked at my Ipod touch dangling halfway off the crimson tinted mattress and an idea implanted itself within the confines of my mind.

Before I could think about what I was doing my hands probed the flat screen and clicked _Google. _

A smirk of pure excitement dashed across my mouth as suggestions showed _'Tate Langdon, Westfield's Mass-Murderer'. _I let out a small yelp of surprise as a blonde, ivory face loaded on the small 2x3inch screen. The Boy! The one that _tried _to save me. I still don't know what happened back there.

All of a sudden I was on the ground with penny-sized holes digging into my body? That's just unnatural, I'd have to ask Briar about that.

The small smile that played on my lips was almost an exact duplicate of his. Unruly hair twisted and twirled it's tendrils down towards his shoulders. A idiotic school uniform clothed his strong, broad shoulders, And a red and black striped tie hung from his neck loosely. Lastly his eye. One word smashed into me like bricks. _Abyss. _That's what they were, small, unforgiving, scarily familiar abysses.

I was reading his biography when I spotted his _death date. _What. The. Fuck? Death date? I had just seen him not even three hours ago. I had just touched his hands not three hours ago either.

Yet there it was, in black and white, _May 13 1994. _I growled deeply within my throat. "Fucking Liars!" I shouted loudly and threw the device across the room and then watched calmly as it smashed into a thousand miniature pieces.

No one came up of course. They never do. One time a 'certified' person says you're mentally insane and whatever you do, say, or claim. Silence is really the only thing that answers you're silent prayers.

Dead or alive, I want Tate to answer me. Now

**The Latin translates to **

'**Feed me a prayer, **

**Conjure a tear. **

**Sing me a lullaby,**

**From your book of fears.**


End file.
